


The helmet

by summerof16



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 02:44:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10607667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerof16/pseuds/summerof16
Summary: So I saw a prompt about Loki being super vain about his new headgear, and couldn't resist.AKALoki is preoccupied with helmet hair, and Sif is trying to get her husband to come back to bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [murdur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdur/gifts).



> Ask and you shall receive

None could claim that the palace of Asgard was not opulent. The walls glittered and gleamed with the regular magical cleaning regime that the maids and workers used. The halls were wide and beautiful, punctured with regularly spaced pillars through which one could overlook the gardens, the training yards, and the serene courtyard where the ladies of the court and Einherjar shared beverages around a well fondly referred to as the ‘Marriage well’.

Queen Frigga ensured that Asgard ran smoothly as the Allfather spent his time dealing with disputes and foreign policies. Thor was on another quest with the warriors three, but this time Sif had remained in Asgard, for her and her husband had been slightly preoccupied as the rest of the hunting party had ventured off.

In the chambers of Sif and Loki, two things were certain. Firstly, that the marriage had once again been consummated with fervour, as Sif lay snugly between the furs, with a satisfied grin on her face, and secondly, that Loki could never be satisfied. This is not to say that he was not satisfied with their coupling, for there was nothing that made Loki seem quite as self-satisfied (other than when he showed off his magical prowess).

No, Loki’s lack of satisfaction came from something entirely different. Across from the bed, Loki stood in front of his floor length mirror. Somewhere, at some point, he had lost his trousers in their chambers, but he still wore a black tunic and his ceremonial helmet. He frowned at the mirror, as he took the helmet off, and inspected his hair.  Hours of tireless grooming had fallen apart. Every. Single. Time.

In the years it had taken him to perfect shape shifting, the use of dimensional pockets, and inter-realm travels, he still could not find the one spell he wanted most: A spell to ensure that his hair was never in disarray. Every morning, while Sif slinked out of bed, lazily, without a care in the world about her exterior (for a woman as glorious as Sif needn’t worry about her looks, Loki was certain), Loki would be sitting in front of their vanity, using an array of products to ensure that his hair was perfect. He knew he did not have the charisma of Thor, nor the natural beauty of his beloved, or even the mysterious air of Hogun, but he did have patience. He perfected everything meticulously and selected his garments with a nearly academic thought-process. Everything needed to be perfect.

But the gods damned helmet ruined everything.

“Perhaps it is time to discard the helm,” Loki muttered to himself, as he stared at the horrifying helmet hair once again. It was all clumped together, and flattened atop his head, making it appear like he had a receding hairline (a claim he vehemently denies and curses anyone who utters the words with irreversible baldness).

Lazily, Sif turned in the bed and lifted her head to look at Loki.

“What did you say?” Their eyes locked in the mirror.

“Perhaps it is time to stop wearing this helm,” he repeated with a frown. “It is regal and beautiful, but not even the stature of the horns is worth this cursed hair.”

Sif stretched in bed, and slowly got up, her night dress swaying around her.  She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, and rest her chin on his shoulder.

“No,” she said simply, grinning wolfishly.

Loki raised an eyebrow, his eyes still locked with hers in the mirror. He rests his left hand over hers, and squeezed gently, as he held up the helmet with his right hand.

“It is but a helmet, my love.  Surely you must desire my happiness above the affection for my armour?” he chuckled.

“Naturally I wish for your happiness, Loki,” she grinned, slipping her hands over his abdomen like one would stroke a cat’s belly. “But above all, I wish for my happiness,” she growled softly, nipping at his ear.

“Tell me more,” he murmured, turning around in her arms. She took the helmet, and carefully placed it on his head again, ignoring his groan of frustration. She took hold of the horns, and pushed, steering him from side to side with a grin.

“I am not a horse,” Loki chuckled, leaning forward to try and steal a kiss, only to be stopped by the resistance Sif applied to his horns.

“But you are my steed,” Sif said salaciously, licking her lips. “And I demand, as the one who holds your reins, that you keep this helm so I may keep guiding you when you use that silvered tongue of yours.”

She tugged on the helmet and pulled him to the edge of the bed before she sat down and pushed him onto his knees.

“Was that a request to use said tongue?” Loki hummed appreciatively, quirking an eyebrow.

She draped her leg over his shoulder and raised her eyebrow in turn. “Must I be less subtle?” 

Grinning, Loki looked up at her. But before Sif could tug him closer, Loki stood up quickly, causing her to topple backward into a mess of furs.

“Odin’s beard! I’ve got it!” Loki rushed to the vanity and whispered a simple incantation as Sif glowered at him through a curtain of dark hair.

“Loki…” she said in a warning tone.

His helmet shimmered and turned into liquid gold. It flowed away from the back of his head, and reformed, covering only parts of his face, and leaving the horns intact. He grinned with childish glee and turned around.

“It is perfect!” he exclaimed, running his hand through his hair.

Sif just stared at him, completely lost for words. “It’s…”

“It is glorious, is it not?” Loki beamed, turning around to glance at the mirror again, preening.

“…Not even a helmet.”

“And thus there will never be helmet hair again,” he grinned.

She shook her head and flopped back into bed. She curled up on her side and hugged a pillow.

At least the pillow had its priorities straight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please drop a comment and let me know what you think! Whether it's too silly or not silly enough :)


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